Fantasy
by Limey Ryuuichi Sakuma
Summary: OrochimaruxKabuto. Kabuto is the minion, Orochimaru is the master, and that's just how they like it. Yaoi!
1. Chapter 1

Kabuto felt tiny beads of sweat gathering on the back of his neck, despite the cool dampness of the underground lair. He had finished his report minutes ago, but Orochimaru was silently withholding his dismissal. He bit his lip, seriously beginning to worry. What had he done wrong? He dared look up from his crouch, seeking any answer, good or bad.

His master was simply staring at him, with one of his wide, eerie grins stretched across his face. Then suddenly he rose, stepping away from his throne-like chair. Kabuto found himself pinned against a stone wall, before he'd even realized he'd been hauled to his feet. His head spun in awe at the shinobi's unpredictability and strength, even as he feared what was to come.

Yes, Orochimaru was indeed unpredictable; just as suddenly he bent to attack his subordinate with a rough kiss. Kabuto pulled in a startled gasp, eyes going wide. It wasn't like this had never happened before, but it seemed like neither the right time nor place for it. Then again, that sort of thought didn't matter when it was Orochimaru's tongue in his mouth, Orochimaru's hips grinding forcefully against his own.

"Orochimaru-sama…" Kabuto was slightly breathless when his master lazily broke the kiss. His vision was a bit hazy as he looked up into those snake eyes.

Orochimaru chuckled, making Kabuto want to put his mouth on that resonating throat so he could _feel_ the sound. "I was just thinking, Kabuto, that you've been so dutiful lately, and that I'd been neglecting to thank you properly."

"Oh," Kabuto breathed, feeling an electric chill shoot through him. "Oh."

The older ninja grinned evilly, moving back slightly while keeping Kabuto's shoulders pushed to the wall. "What's wrong, Kabuto-kun? You don't sound so excited about it."

A look of quick anxiety flashed across the Sound nin's face. "No! Please, really, I am!" He bit his lip at his needy outburst, calming himself. "I—it's just such an honor to be thought of by you…. It's a little overwhelming, I mean."

Orochimaru moved back in, pressing completely against the younger man. "I see. Then…." He slid his right hand across Kabuto's shoulder and lifted it to his jaw, gently tipping his head back. He feathered his open hand down Kabuto's exposed throat before slipping it around to grip the back of his neck. "Then tell me your favorite fantasy."

Kabuto's heart pounded erratically in his chest, his mouth going dry. He swallowed hard. "A fantasy?" he managed.

"Mm," Orochimaru affirmed, bringing his lips to the boy's throat. "Something you've always dreamed of us doing. Of you doing to me. Or…." He trailed off, putting his tongue to better use, beginning to rock his hips again.

Stars sparked behind Kabuto's eyes as a million and one situations flooded his willing mind. He blushed deeply, partially from thinking of all the uses of his master's insanely long tongue, but also because of the intimate nature his response. Did he really want Orochimaru to know his most personal thoughts? Would the more experienced man mock his idea of perfection?

But it was too good a chance to pass up. Besides, if he had to, he'd look at it as an order…and he always did what Orochimaru ordered.

"Is my Kabuto shy? Or just trying to make up your mind?"

Kabuto could feel the other man's smile against his neck. He swallowed again, closing his eyes, giving in to the sensations. "Neither, Orochimaru-sama. I know what I want."

"Oh?" The voice was light, almost amused.

"Well…" he paused, unsure how to phrase it. "First you'd take off my glasses."

Orochimaru made a noise which might have been "how interesting". He certainly wasn't being shot down, so Kabuto continued on.

"And then everything else, but what matters is that you take off my glasses first. And…and the way I'd want it…." He paused again, finally reaching up to embrace the taller man. He wasn't sure how long his own legs were going to support him.

"On my knees. With my hands tied so I'd be helpless. And you'd be behind me, above me. So that you could use me however you wanted. And you'd bite me, not for a curse seal or anything, but just for the pain, for the blood. You'd make me scream."

"You want me to hurt you?" Orochimaru suddenly whispered in his ear.

Kabuto moaned. "Yes…" he said softly, "but I also want you to use me. To be used by you, for your satisfaction, Orochimaru-sama—that is everything to me."

"You have a twisted mind. That's what I like about you, Kabuto. Your fantasies are just as twisted." With that he drew back, breaking all contact with his young follower. "Now, I believe there are some matters I must attend to."

Kabuto watched in hastily concealed confusion as his mentor stalked out of the room, ending their frolic as abruptly as he had started it. He was left alone in the dim candle light, feeling suddenly cold.

It was only after a moment that he had recovered enough to push his glasses back up on his nose. He let his hand linger in front of his face for a moment before dropping it. There were times in his life when he just felt so _used_. And sometimes, reality was infinitely better than any fantasy.


	2. Chapter 2

He was standing off to the side, in the shadows, where he belonged. He bit back the slight twinge of useless jealously that rose as he watched the figure kneeling before his master. He didn't hate Kimimaro, he couldn't hate one Orochimaru loved. He couldn't hate a fellow, yet more vital cog in his master's machine. But he could feel jealousy, as much as he tried not to, and it burned in his throat like acid.

He tried not to feel too relieved when Kimimaro finally left. He was able to breathe a little freer, although it was impossible to tell just by watching him. He was a spy after all, a damn good one, and it didn't do to parade around his inner thoughts.

Orochimaru was silent in his chair, leaning into his fingers laid thoughtfully against his cheek. Kabuto maintained the silence, content to observe his master in peace. Besides, he'd learned long ago never the penalties of disturbing him when it wasn't absolutely necessary.

"Do you enjoy your free will, Kabuto?" The question leaked out into the dim room, echoing through the quiet.

This was not a new question. Kabuto answered it as he always had, with a simple, "Yes, sir."

The former Sannin turned his piercing gaze on his subordinate. "You wouldn't rather have a curse seal from me? You wouldn't rather let me live on in your body?"

There was silence again. Orochimaru knew the answers without having to ask. There had been a time when Kabuto had felt bitter at being passed up for the most honored gift his master could give him. But that had been long ago, and he truly had come to appreciate his so-called freedom. He'd seen the fate of enough test subjects to know how good he had it. But as for being Orochimaru's future body, it still hurt on occasion to think that he just wasn't good enough.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think that you enjoy causing your underlings pain, Orochimaru-sama," Kabuto ventured, pushing the line of sarcastic audacity he had recently discovered he could defy without repercussion.

"It's the least I can do for those who enjoy it," Orochimaru taunted. It was the first mention he'd made to that incident two weeks ago. He continued, "I only ask because I want you to know important you are to me, how I trust you enough to let you live as you do."

The boy took a step back into the shadows, uncomfortable. "Thank you, Orochimaru-sama."

"Those with free will have a chance to become traitors. They have a chance to run." Those golden eyes narrowed, like searchlights into the darkness, staring straight into Kabuto's soul. "But you stay. You stay here with a monster like me."

"It's Kimimaro that worships you, not me," Kabuto said with disgust. Inside, he hoped he hadn't stepped too far.

"Kimimaro is a fool, he only sees me as he wants to see me. As his savior. But you see me how I am, and yet you stay."

Kabuto said nothing; there was nothing to say. The silence solidified between them.

"Come before me, Kabuto. I don't like you in the shadows when I can only see the reflection of your glasses. It's eerie." A snake-like grin appeared on that pale face, more eerie than anything else in the room would ever be.

Kabuto obediently moved out into the candle light, kneeling before the chair. He grimaced as he felt the floor still warm where Kimimaro had been.

Orochimaru growled deep in his throat, "You know, Kabuto, there's no one else I'd rather have on their knees in front of me."

A small smile crept onto Kabuto's face, but he kept his head lowered.

"Look at me," Orochimaru commanded, stealing away Kabuto's short privacy.

"Your free will entices me, attracts me. Kimimaro could never hold my attention in the same way. And when it comes to you, there are far more interesting ways to take your body." A leer turned up the corner of his mouth, and he reach out to cup Kabuto's chin.

Kabuto felt heat rushing through his veins, pooling in his stomach and spreading lower. Orochimaru's fingers were shockingly cool, and he was pulled to his feet by that grip as his master stood.

He was pulled closer, and Orochimaru tilted his head up, drawing him into a surprisingly gentle kiss. It grew rougher as his hand slipped around to pull out the band that held Kabuto's hair up. The light hair fell forward to meet the dark, the strands mixing around their faces. Kabuto melted in his master's arms, under his master's touch, at his master's will.

Orochimaru's teeth suddenly bit down into Kabuto's bottom lip, cutting the flesh. The pain was a searing white light blocking out his vision, and he loved it. He moaned as Orochimaru proceeded to suck on the wound, teasing the open cuts roughly with his tongue, letting some blood dribble out between their lips.

Then he was released, and Kabuto instinctively ran his own tongue over the injury, tasting his blood and smiling. Then his heart stopped, sick hope and pessimistic doubt mixing violently with the lust in his belly—

Gracefully, gently, Orochimaru slid his glasses from his face.

There was only a few seconds for him to stare, transfixed, up at his master. Then, with a hoarse growl of "I like you best on your knees," Orochimaru threaded his fingers through his hair and pushed him roughly to the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Orochimaru slid over him like a fever, a shivery mixture of hot and cold. Kabuto felt his growing delirium in the way he swooned into the pillow soaked with his sweat, and in the way his breath came in thick, heavy pants. His master was a sickness, invading all of his senses, _penetrating_ and running darkly through his veins, becoming more a part of him each passing moment. If there was a cure, none was sought. None was desired.

Instead, he submitted to the fever—let it command his body—let it burn him alive from the inside out. Orochimaru covered him and filled him and breathed purpose into his lungs, poison into his heart. He was infected, polluted, corrupted; forcing ragged cries from his too-sore throat. The taste of death was on his lips, and he walked that razor's edge without fear.

Then the fever broke, and he went with it. Sapped of all his strength, Kabuto could only fall limply into a fitful sleep while his master silently observed the boy that he loved so much to break.


End file.
